Not Your Type
by MissWinkles
Summary: What on earth could a grumpy, hipster hating Edward have in common with an ink-covered, sarcastic Bella? A late-Christmas present one shot turned ficlette. Short chapters. Fluffy. Silly. Really, what else would you expect?
1. Chapter 1

**So, it's been a big year. The final Twilight movie, the end of the world (twice), good things, bad things, tall things, small things. Through it all though, this fandom has remained my constant. Whether it's flailing together over new pics, or coming together as a united front for the sake of a fallen fan, I think we are EASILY the best fandom ever. Sure, we have our ups and downs, and I've never actually been a part of another fandom – but you get the picture. **

**I've made some news friends this year (Inky and Thimbles I'm looking at you), and kept others close (Kim, Krystal, Alby and all my WC Hoors). Plus, I've met a bunch of people I can just love-on like the closet freak I am. (Jada, iambeagle, MagTwi and all you Twitter girls!). You guys have all been there for me in some way or another over the past year, even if it's doing nothing more than writing the awesome stories that I love to read and that make me happeh, or just laughing with/at me. SO, before I start crying and singing that stupid over-worked Green Day song – this is for you. **

**Yeah you – I'm lookin' at you aren't I?**

**Some late-Christmas fluff to fill your stockings. Happy New Year – see you in 2013!**

* * *

**Thank you to Anna_Faze and SherieHearts for their wonderful, quick beta work. **

* * *

**EPOV**

"I can't believe you made me come all the way over here."

"Will you stop whining, please?" snaps Alice. "I drove you here. I'm driving you home. Shut the fuck up and be merry, okay? It's Christmas."

"Its Brooklyn, man," says Jasper, grinning as usual, holding his gloved-hands outstretched. "It's not the Middle East."

It's cold. Bitterly fucking cold. The night air is damp and freezing against my cheeks and nose, the end of which is no doubt glowing like Rudolf the goddamn Reindeer. The dark sky is heavy with the anticipation of snow, the air smelling like impending rain or something. To make matters worse, I'm following Alice and Jasper to some shitty party in Brooklyn, which is on the entire other side of the bridge. I'm tired, I'm grumpy, I'm wearing the same clothes I wore to work, and I'm pretty sure we're traipsing through hipster central – or as Alice calls it – _Williamsberg_.

"This party better be good, Alice."

"Pfft - Why?" she snorts. "You got better plans, Ed?" I open my mouth to respond, but am rudely cut off by this tiny little freak that Jasper calls his girlfriend. "Smoking weed, eating Cheetos, and masturbating doesn't constitute plans, Edward. And neither does watching _Friends with Benefits_ for the sixteenth fucking time."

Scowling, I glance at that fucking traitor Jasper, who's giggling into his scarf. "That was _one_ time. And you can't deny that Mila Kunis' ass isn't spank-worthy."

Jasper's brows raise and he nods in agreement, shivering as a cold wind picks up around us.

"I read somewhere that's not her ass in the movie."

I stop dead in the street, my hands cold even buried in my pockets. "It's a butt double? Why...why would you say that?"

"I just heard is all." She shrugs. "I could be wrong."

Her attempt to assuage my heartbreak is pitiful. "It's too late now! You've ruined Mila Kunis for me forever."

"You're such a drama queen," she says, gripping me by the arm to get me moving again.

Dragging my feet up the half a dozen or so stairs to the apartment, I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket, trying to look like I belong. The music is loud enough to be heard from outside, and we pass a bunch of guys standing at the door, smoking what smells like herbal cigarettes, talking about Kafka, and whether or not licorice is vegan. I sigh a long, and very frustrated breath, as I realize that, no, I don't belong here.

Fucking Jasper and his goddamn hipster friends with their stupid ironic facial hair.

I'll admit it though; the apartment is pretty nice inside. Just being out of the cold lifts my mood a little. It's warm – thank God – and the furniture is mismatched, but in that particular kind of way, like even though none of it matches, it all fits together anyway.

She's across the other side of the room when I spot her, and my beer hovers at my lips as my whole body reacts to her, and in the blink of an eye – a dark-rimmed eye of indeterminate color – my night turns around.

* * *

**As usual - song influences - 'Ruby' by Kaiser Chiefs, and 'A Thing For Me (Breakbot Remix)' by Metronomy - which I've always wanted to use somewhere.**

**Last author's note. Promise. xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**BPOV**

* * *

"God, this party is lame." My best friend Harrie rolls her blue eyes, sighing loudly as the two of us stand in the middle of my living room, watching friends, and friends of friends, mill around. There are bro-hugs, and back-slaps, weird handshakes and air kisses floating around the room as people mingle, spreading holiday cheer and merriment like its fucking herpes.

My cousin, Tia, convinced me to have a little Christmas gathering. A soirée she called it. A pain in my ass is what it is. The last week has been hectic at work; my shoulders hurt, my wrists are sore, and if I have to look at another cheesy tribal-looking tramp stamp, I'll kill myself. It might be my party, but tonight, I would rather be upstairs asleep, wrapped up in my new down comforter, warm and snuggly, watching Golden Girls reruns.

_Oh my God. _

On second thoughts, I'd rather be upstairs with the guy who's just walked in my front door.

Merry Christmas to me.

He's tall - at least a head taller than the people around him. I only catch glimpses of him as he skulks through the room, his hood still pulled up over his head hiding his face from full view. His shoulders are hunched like he's trying not to draw attention to himself – and really, it's probably a good idea since I have no idea who he is, or what he's doing in my house. Still, I watch him surreptitiously, trying to hold a conversation with the people around me, while keeping tabs on this cute guy in my living room.

Finally, my curiosity gets the better of me.

"Hey, Harrie - who's that with the hoodie on? Over by the window."

Harrie adjusts her ridiculous non-prescription glasses, squinting into them like she actually needs them to see. Idiot.

"With the beanie?"

I nod, peeking over my shoulder briefly. God, he's ridiculous.

"Oh -" Harrie flaps her hands around, pressing her palm to her forehead. "That's … ahhh … oh fuck, what's his name? Hey, Tia - who's that guy with Jasper?"

Tia turns, her dark, exotic-looking eyes scanning the room. A little smile plays across her lips as she spots tall and broody across the room. "That's Edward."

"It's Edward," echoes Harrie.

"Yeah, I heard." I turn to Tia. "So he's one of Jasper's friends?"

She shrugs. "I guess. Why?" Both she and Harrie narrow their eyes at me, and I shrug, tucking the hand that's not wrapped around my beer, into my back pocket.

"He's cute is all."

Harrie peeks at this Edward dude from behind her behemoth of a boyfriend, and Jake snorts, giving Edward a sidelong glance, crossing his arms over his broad, ink-covered chest.

"He's a bit skinny," he says, and I take another swig of beer, swallowing the last of the almost warm liquid. I guess he _is_ skinny, but then compared to Jake, everyone looks thin. I watch over Tia's shoulder as his hands flail wildly as he talks to Jasper, disappearing into his hood and under a black knit cap for a moment. I want to stop looking, stop staring across the apartment like a fucking creepy bitch, but when a gorgeous blonde approaches him, my heart makes a little flip-flop in my chest and I can't look away. Is that his girlfriend? Fuck, she's hot. I definitely don't know her .

"Where's the bathroom, Iz?"

Hearing my name snaps me out of my staring, and I turn, wrenching my eyes away. "Hallway by the stairs, first door on the right."


	3. Chapter 3

**EPOV**

* * *

She's short, maybe chest height, but I can't tell from so far away. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, her pale skin stark even against the white t-shirt she's wearing. She's got those black jeans on too, the ones that look like she's sprayed them on, or poured herself into them. I have to know who she is. I want to know what color her eyes are up close. If her hair is black, or just really dark brown. I want to see what's tattooed on her skin, what it is that's peeking out of the sleeve of her t-shirt.

I turn to the only person I know who can help.

"Alice!"

She jumps, startled.

"What? God, why are you yelling? I'm right here!"

"Behind me with the dark hair and the white t-shirt; what's her name?"

Alice looks around me, her eyes narrowing as her brow creases. "That's Iz...but..."

"She has a boyfriend?"

"No, but-"

"Oh, fuck – she likes chicks, right?"

"No! She-"

"She what? She's not a dude is she?" My heart leaps into my throat. "If she is, she's…uh…_he's_ a very pretty dude. Hell – I'd probably still go there … a kiss at least. That doesn't make me-"

"Edward!"

"What?" I shake Alice lightly. "Why are you standing in the way of me and my potential true love?" It's a little dramatic, I know.

"True love? Edward, the most meaningful relationship you've had was with a Chia Pet."

"You had to bring that up." _Bitch_. "I fucking loved that thing."

Jasper turns up, beers in hand. "Are you talking about that stupid Chia Pet again?"

"No, asshat, we're talking about my future wife, but thanks for bringing it up."

Jasper looks at Alice, who just rolls her eyes. "He's talking about Iz."

"Isabella?"

_Isabella_. I whisper her name, clutching a beer to my chest. "She's perfect. You guys know her? Why haven't I met her before?"

Jasper looks both surprised and confused, his mouth hanging open as he scratches his fingers through his hair. "I don't know; she's just not your type, I guess."

"My type? She's cute as fuck - what about her isn't my type?"

Jasper shrugs.

"Wait - what IS my type?"

"Young."

Alice snorts. "Dumb."

"Too much fake tan."

I nod. "Yeah, okay."

"Nasty ass extensions."

"Horrid taste in music." Trust Jasper to point that out. I punch him on the arm, telling him to cut it out.

Rose suddenly appears at my side, ready as always to really drive the point home. "I'll take Edward's ex-girlfriends for one hundred thanks, Alex."

"Fuck off, Rosalie," I spit, and she flips me her middle finger.

"What about the mouth breather? Remember her?" laughs Alice, completely ignoring my earlier pleas to please shut up.

My curiosity rises and I open my mouth before I have a chance to stop it. "The who?"

"Katy. The Mouth Breather."

"Aw. She wasn't that bad," argues Jasper.

"Are you kidding?" says Emmett, his laugh booming around the apartment. "You could hear her breathing from across the room."

"Whatever." They all laugh, and I roll my eyes, keeping the fact that her snoring was a key factor in our breakup to myself.

I look back at the dark-haired beauty standing across the room, who hopefully breathes through her nose like a normal person. She's talking to some six foot man-child, with arms the size of my head, and a neck the width of a dinner plate. Fuck it, if that's her boyfriend, I can take him. Or, I can kiss her and run like the wind.

"Introduce me."

Alice snorts, shaking her head. "No."

"What? Why? Please, Alice?"

"No! Iz is much too smart for you. And anyway, I don't think you're her type either."

"What is it with you and _types_?" I look down at my attire. "I'm wearing clean clothes-" I sniff my armpits discreetly. "I don't smell. I think I'm reasonably attractive – when I make an effort."

"Did you wear those clothes to work today?"

"I came straight from work!"

Alice raises an eyebrow.

"How was I to know I'd meet the girl of my dreams at this fucking hipster party?"

Being the best friend that Jasper is, he comes to my rescue. "Come on, Ali, just take him over and introduce him. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Please?"


	4. Chapter 4

**BPOV**

* * *

The front door opens, bringing in a gust of cold wind. A collective shiver runs through the room, and everyone takes a step away from the source of the wind. As I watch a pair of thick arms wrap around Edward's blonde friend, I'm strangely happy to see them attached to one of Ali's friends. The big one with the dark hair that I know I've met more than once, but just can't remember his name.

"How do you know him, Tia?" I press, my fascination odd even to myself.

"Who? Edward? Uhh – I think he was sleeping with Jayne for a bit."

I frown, scrunching up my nose. Jayne is Tia's housemate; she's a complete idiot. "So he's single?"

Tia looks confused. "Are we looking at the same guy, babe?"

"Tall? Black hoodie?"

Tia nods, and both she, Harrie, and Jake look over at him, and then back to me.

"Yeaaahh, he's single," concedes Tia. "But - I don't know. He's not really your type, Iz. He doesn't even have a beard."

"Or ink."

"And I bet he's not even in a band."

They're all laughing at me now, which earns them my middle finger. "Why are you all here again?"

Harrie wraps her thin arms around my neck, pulling me in for a hug. "You know we love you, Iz. You're just so predictable when it comes to guys."

"I'm not _that _predictable - am I?"

Both Harrie and Tia, as well as Jake nod, adding a chorus of yeses.

"Oh my God!" interrupts Harrie. "Did you see Marcus is here? And he brought Em with him."

Tia gasps. "No way!"

Thankfully, our conversation turns to idle gossip for moment, but I just can't take my eyes off Edward. He looks like he's arguing with Ali, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. I don't know what it is that makes this guy so attractive to me, when all he's done since he walked in is frown.

"Dude," spits Tia. "He's with Ali, just go talk to him."

I half snort, half giggle; it's a very ladylike sound. "No. No way!"

"You're such a pussy!"

"And you're an asshole. Anyway, where's Ben? Shouldn't you be attached to his face like fucking Alien spawn already?"

"You did not just geek-out and make an Alien reference," teases Jake, laughing as he flinches away from a punch on his tree-sized arm.

"Oh, fuck!" giggles Harrie, laughing behind her hand. "Don't look now, but Mr. Not-Your-Type is coming over."

I don't even have the balls to look. "Holy fucking shit. Is my hair okay? Is there lipstick on my teeth?"

"You look fine," assures Tia, holding her hand up in front of me. "Just chill the fuck out."


	5. Chapter 5

**EPOV**

* * *

"Wait a second. Do I look okay?" I tug the knitted cap off my head, tucking it in my back pocket.

"You hair's a fucking mess."

"Better?" I ask, scrubbing my fingers through the cluster-fuck atop my head.

Alice shakes her head. "Not in the slightest. But you're rocking that I-don't-give-a-shit-about-personal-appearance look, so it doesn't matter anyway."

Hat hair – awesome. I breathe into my palm quickly, giving it a sniff. Breath; a little like beer, but still minty fresh. I haven't eaten since lunch, so there's no food in my teeth. I look down; my shirt buttons are wonky – but when aren't they?

Anyway, I'm halfway across the room already, so it's not like I can turn back now.

_Keep calm. Keep calm. Don't look like a creep. _

_Fuuuuck - she's even cuter up close._


	6. Chapter 6

**_BPOV_**

* * *

_Don't be a dick. Just stay cool._

"Hey, Ali."

"Hey, girl. Merry Christmas."

I try not to look at Edward over Ali's shoulder. Failing, I catch him shuffling his feet awkwardly as Jake sizes him up from behind me. "Ali, this is my friend Harrie and her boyfriend Jake. And you've met Tia."

Alice hugs my friends and girly air-kisses, and steps back beside Edward. "Iz, this is Edward. Edward; Iz and Jake run Rat-A-Tatts on Canal."

"Oh yeah?" He looks at me briefly before extending his hand to Jake. "I hear you guys do good work." Being the dick he is, Jake just nods, ignoring Edward's offered hand.

"O-kay." Edward slides his hand up under his hood awkwardly, revealing a shock of auburn hair as it slips back a little.

"We do," I say, breaking the tension. "You should come in some time. We love a clean skin." I wink at him, and then immediately feel like a dick for doing so.

God, I'm such a weirdo.

He watches, green eyes alight, as I bring my bottle to my lips, silencing my verbal diarrhea with a drink. His gaze lowers slowly and he completely, unabashedly, checks me out. I don't have it in me to care one bit either. His eyes burn through my thin t-shirt as his gaze traverses my body before reaching my eyes again.

"You found the beer then?" I ask, pointing to the beer bottle in his hand. To be honest, I just want to hear him speak again. His voice is quieter than I'd imagined, or maybe he's just nervous. Something about it just begs to be heard.

"Yeah." He holds the bottle up, squinting at the label. "It's some boutique, fancy shmancy stuff."

"Fancy shmancy? Are you complaining about free beer, Edward?"

His eyes widen, their brilliant green bright in the dim light. "No-I-"

"Cos you're kinda crashing a party, so complaining about free beer isn't cool, dude."

"Crashing?" he splutters, looking adorably flustered. "What? How do you know I'm crashing?" I lift an eyebrow, and a sly smile tugs at his cheeks in response. "You'll be embarrassed when I tell you I'm tight with the person running the party."

_Gotchya._ "It's my party."

His mouth falls open into a perfect little 'o', and I'm drawn to the color of his lower lip.

"Well...this is awkward."

"A little."

He stands straight, and I'm right; he's taller than he looks. "Can we start this again? I'm going to go over there," he points across the room, "and come back over."

"Right, so, do I just stand here then?" He watches intently as my fingers rake through my hair, flipping it over one shoulder.

"Yeah..." His eyes flicker back to mine. "Just go back to looking cute and I'll come over."

_Oh my God, he thinks I'm cute._

"Okay."


	7. Chapter 7

**EPOV**

* * *

Jesus. Could I be any more of a dick? I violently tug my hood off my head as I walk away, and scrub my hands through my hair again, like it'll make a lick of difference. I take one last mouthful of beer - which, aside from being some obscure micro-brewery bullshit - is actually pretty good, and when I look back across the room at her, I can't help but grin as I catch her looking over at me, her dark eyes sparkling from beneath her heavy bangs. They're brown by the way – her eyes. The darkest, richest shade of brown I've ever seen.

I'm just about to make my way back for a do over, when someone grabs me by the arm.

"You find your girl, dude?"

Nice timing, Emmett. I blow out a frustrated breath, nodding as I glance back at the dark-haired beauty behind me.

"Yeah, actually-"

Emmett cuts me off. "So, I just wanted to let you know, you know, since we're bros and all that, that I'm going to ask Rose to marry me at Christmas."

"Awesome. Good for you, man."

"Yeah? I thought you'd be all thingy about it."

I swap my empty beer bottle for a full one from a bucket nearby. "Thingy? Why would I be thingy?"

Emmett shrugs. "I don't know. You and Rose have never been..."

"Civil?"

"Yeah."

"Emmett, I might not love the girl, but she's _your_ girl. I'm happy if you're happy."

His dimples make his face look like one of those weird cherub dolls. "Thanks, man."

I nod, clamping a hand over his shoulder in support. "Yep. So, listen, I'd love to hear more about this, but I need to get back over there to the girl who I'm pretty sure is my soul mate."

Emmett glances over his shoulder. "Really? Iz?"

"You know her too?"

"Course. She did all of Rose's work."

"Huh. So everyone knows her but me?"

"Well yeah, but...I don't know...I guess we just figured you two wouldn't really suit each other. I mean, look at her, and look at you."

He's the second person that's made mention of her '_not being my type'_. This is getting ridiculous. "Yeah, okay, so, nice talking to you, go fuck yourself."

Emmett laughs, his bellowing chuckle following me until I'm back at her side moments later.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Both of her eyebrows rise, and she smirks at me, bright red lips stretching across her pearly whites. "What are you saying about my apartment, Edward?"

Fuck. I squeeze my eyes closed. "I'm not great at this. And can you call me Ed, please? Only my mom calls me Edward, and I don't really want to think about my mom right now."

She laughs, and I find I'm quite partial to her deep, throaty chuckle. "Alright, but you have to call me Bella."

"Not Iz?"

Her nose scrunches up, wrinkles forming on either side. "Nah. I've never told anyone, but I hate that name."

"Alright - _Bella_." She smiles, and GOD, something about that red lipstick against her pale skin makes my dick twitch. As I step just a few inches closer, I realize how short she actually is. I mean, she's not Ali short, but she's definitely good shoulder-nook material.

"So, do you make a habit of crashing parties when you don't know who's throwing them?"

She's a smart ass.

"Not on the regular," I reply. "Maybe once or twice a year."

"A bi-annual crasher?"

This girl is fucking perfect.

"Exactly."

"How do you and Ali know each other?"

"We're cousins. And her boyfriend Jasper works for me."

"Wait, he works for you? You _own _The Sound Hole?"

"You know it?"

"Sure, I pass by it almost every day. Plus, Jake likes to trawl the vinyl section a couple times a month."

Jake? Oh, yeah, that 'roid-rage looking fuck with skinny jeans and tattoos all over. He's got his hand on the blonde's ass, but his eyes on Bella. I give him a lift of my eyebrows over my beer bottle. Sucker.

"So you're Jasper's friend?" She looks perplexed. "That's so weird; I've known Ali for over a year. Why haven't we met before?"

"I don't know." My eyes are drawn to her mouth as her tongue peeks out to capture the steel in her lip, tucking it between her teeth. "How do you know Alice?"

"I met her at a random party last August. She told me my hair was cute, and the rest is history."

"My birthday is in August."

"Well, happy birthday for August."

"Thanks. I had a party of my very own. Not as cool as this one though."

"Of course."

"There was real beer there, though. None of this fancy pants stuff."

Bella clucks her tongue at me chidingly. "Again with the beer tirade? I'll have you know this stuff is made locally, and is organic."

Her cheeks color as I look at her incredulously, and my fingers itch to pull the front of her t-shirt down, to watch the color spread. I know she sees me looking too, because she's watching me with those fucking doe-eyes, and her lip is caught between her teeth again and my dick wants to know if she does that when she comes.

"Whatever'" she says quietly. "So August, huh? Big party?"

Taking a breath, I will my dick to calm the fuck down before it rips a hole in my favorite jeans. "Yeah. Down on Twenty-First. Jasper got so drunk he tried to do the worm and broke his nose."

"No way!" she almost yells, startling both me and the people around us. She curses, lowering her voice. "I was at that party."

I shake my head. "Nope, not possible. It was my birthday party, I would have noticed you."

She blushes again, and I decide I really, really like it when she does that.

"Well - I was definitely there. 'Bar None' on Twenty-Third and Ninth, right?"

"Yeah. Man, I can't believe you were there."

"Well, Ali invited us in, and it was open bar so who was I to refuse?"

It's stupid, but I'm momentarily pissed off at the universe for never letting us cross paths before tonight.

"Wait, so - _you_ crashed _my_ party?"


	8. Chapter 8

**BPOV**

* * *

Damn. He's got me there.

"I wouldn't say I crashed your party, I'd say it was more of an unannounced arrival."

"Right. I'm going to stick with gate-crashed, but whatever."

I can't stop looking at his hands. He must think I'm a freak, fixating on his fingers like I am. But they're just so fucking perfect. And if I thought he was cute when he was frowning, he's practically adorable when he smiles. But not kitten adorable, like…kiss the shit out of him and maybe sit on his face adorable.

"Cool party, though," he says, breaking me out of my fantasy. "Your apartment's nice."

"Oh," I swallow my bashful smile. "Yeah, thanks. It wasn't my idea though. My cousin Tia kind of forced me to have a party."

He smiles that sweet, half smile I'm becoming a little addicted to. "Well, I was forced to come to your party, so here's to being made to do things we don't want to."

We clink our overpriced beer bottles. "Yeah, it's working out well so far."

Never taking his eyes off me, he takes a deep breath, sighing a little on the exhale. "Uh, is there somewhere I can smoke?" He pats his jacket pocket, then his jeans, then his jacket again, reaching inside.

God. This guy is so very not the kind of guy I date. A smoker? Clean skinned? Gainfully employed? It feels strange and exhilarating all at once.

"Yeah, out back. Come on, I'll show you."

Sticking close behind me, he follows me through the apartment to the tiny back yard - if you can call it that. Nodding his thanks, he pulls a cigarette from the pack with his mouth, the stupid thing dangling from his lips like he's James fucking Dean.

He offers me one, but I decline.

I don't smoke, it's a disgusting habit.

"So how long have you…uh…" The flame from his lighter casts a warm glow over his face for a moment, and his cheeks hollow gently as his lips pucker around the end of the cigarette. I swallow, watching as he takes another quick drag, his soft-looking mouth blowing the smoke from his lungs. "…um…what was I…Oh! How long have you owned your store?"

"About two years," he says, and again, I watch as he pulls from the cigarette.

Why am I finding this so goddamn attractive?

"Awesome."

He frowns, using the two fingers that aren't wrapped around the cigarette to wipe something from the inside of his bottom lip, his tongue swiping across the pink skin momentarily.

"How long have you been a tattoo artist?"

Crossing my arms over my chest, I wrap my hands around my bare arms, bouncing up and down a little to keep warm – also in an attempt to keep my mind clear so I can make coherent sentences.

"Four years."

"I hear you're pretty good."

With the cigarette between his lips, Edward slips the bomber jacket off his shoulders, leaving just his hoodie on, and wraps it over my shoulders.

Jesus H. Christ.

It's heavy and smells like warm, hot as fuck man. I pull it around my shoulders, untucking my hair from beneath its collar. "Yeah, I'm okay. Like I said, you'll have to come in one day and sample my handiwork."

His green eyes focus on the ink peeking out of the collar of his jacket. "How many do you have?"

Pressing my lips together, I count. Halfway through I lose count though. The way he's looking at my lips – his cigarette forgotten – makes my brain go completely blank. "Six – no, seven. No, wait. Six."

His eyes narrow a little as he sucks the last few drags from his smoke, and he turns to stamp it out in an old pot plant. I've never seen anyone smoke a cigarette as – attractively – as this guy.

"So how many of those six are visible?"

I suck a breath in through my teeth, chuckling. "Well, it depends how much I'm wearing."

_Oh my God. I did not just say that!_


	9. Chapter 9

**EPOV_  
_**

* * *

_Fuck. She did not just say that. _

"That's…" My brain to mouth function is temporarily unavailable. "That's hot."

_Who are you, Paris Hilton?_ I clench my jaw tightly, clearing my throat.

Her fingers smooth her dark, shiny bangs. "I…I better get inside and make sure no one is stealing my things."

In a decidedly gentlemanly move, I open the back door for her, ushering her in ahead of me.

I may or may not sneak a peek at her ass in those jeans.

She hands me my jacket back, thanking me again, and as good as she looked in it, the lightweight material of her t-shirt is really much more attractive on her. I follow her back inside, watching her dark hair swish against her back. I'd never admit it to my friends, but they're right – Bella is not at all the type of girl I usually go for. Normally, I'll play it cool; which, I guess, is the thing with other girls - the more you act like you don't want them, the more they want you. The difference with Bella is that I want her, and I don't care if she knows it.

Hell, I don't care if the whole place knows it.

"No missing valuables?"

Bella looks around, shaking her head as she rubs her hands together to warm them up. "Nope. Well, who am I kidding; I don't own anything valuable anyway. So, beer?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Be right back."

I look around for somewhere to dump my jacket, settling on a floral patterned armchair by the window, since it seems to be where an abundance of second-hand cardigans and sweaters are lying. Fucking hipsters.

Speaking of.

I glance across the room, locking eyes with that douche-canoe, Jake. He's scowling at me, no doubt because he's wearing a pair of skinny jeans roughly the same size as Bella's, and they're cutting off the blood supply to his balls. Who is this guy? I give him a wave, which he returns with an eye roll.

A cold bottle is shoved into my right hand. "Just ignore him. I do."

"But he's so adorable."

Bella snorts, taking a sip of her beer. "He's…my business partner, and a little bit of a dick."

"You don't say."

"You're quite the smart ass," she quips.

"You're one to talk, sass mouth."

She clinks her bottle neck against mine. "Congratulations, I don't think anyone's said _sass_ since about the mid-forties."

Taking a drink, I hold the bottle up, getting a good look. "Is this…is this _real_ beer?"

With her hand tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, she rocks to the side a little, chewing the inside of her cheek, looking fucking cute as hell. "I might have had something stashed away somewhere."

I can barely contain the grin that accompanies her confession. Mirroring her stance, I tuck my free hand into the front pocket of my jeans. "Thanks."

She shrugs, taking another drink.

"So, technically, since you crashed my party last year—"

"Not crashed; surprised."

"Minor details." I wave my hand in the air. "You were there, drinking the beer I paid for."

Bella nods. "Continue."

"And since I paid for the beer, does that mean I bought you a drink already?"

Her eyes narrow, dark lashes meeting at the corners of her eyes. "I guess – technically."

Taking another big mouthful of liquid courage, I rub a hand across my jaw, pretending to think deeply. "So…base-wise…where does that put me? That's gotta be somewhere between first and second."

"What?" her mouth pops open, and she smiles. "How cheap do you think I am? You're approaching first, dude."

"Approaching first?" I feign shock, clutching my chest. I don't have it in me to be upset with her answer though. Not only am I _this_ close to a kiss, I'm a whole lot fucking closer to kissing her than that cock blocker, Jake is.

Swallowing my nerves, I step just a little closer. "How close is close?"

She's short enough that she has to tip her head back a little to reach my eyes. "Pretty close."

I inch forward a little more. "How about now?"

Her perfect red lips open a little and her eyes zero in on my mouth. "Pretty fucking close."

The word _fuck_ is what does it.


	10. Chapter 10

**BPOV**

* * *

His lips are actually as soft as they look as they press against mine. The kiss is slow and gentle, and just a little bit freaking wonderful. Surprisingly, he doesn't taste like smoke either, only the lingering taste of beer. When his lips leave mine, only to return once, twice, and a final time, I have to suppress a girly sigh.

What is wrong with me? I do not girly sigh.

"So, that's me rounding first base then."

I open my eyes. "Yeah. It sure is."

He leans in for another quick kiss; that turns into not just a quick kiss, but a big kiss, with a little bit of ass grope as well. He has a great ass.

As the night wears on, I almost completely forget that the party is actually going on inside my own house. I'm so caught up with Edward; with his smile and his easy, flirty banter, that by the time I remember that I'm the host, half of the party has gone already. We sink into the saggy, well-worn material of my sofa, our sides pressed together all the way down to our feet. I sneak in a few more kisses, since, like everything else about him, they're beginning to be addictive.

After copious amounts of my hidden beer, both Edward and I are filled with Christmas cheer. The tipsier he gets, the more of a mess his hair becomes, its auburn strands sticking up in every direction, occasionally making me want to flatten them and watch them spring up again. How the fuck he deals with it on a daily basis is beyond me.

With his coat and scarf on, Jasper appears at our outstretched feet.

"So, I hate to break this lovely picture up, but we gotta go," says Jasper apologetically.

_No!_

Oh God. This is it. This is the moment where I have to do something. My already jump-started heart leaps and pounds in my chest, so hard I could swear my whole body vibrates. Why did I think it was a good idea to have a party? Now it's up to me to make a move, and suddenly I'm chicken shit and nervous as all hell.

"You don't have to go." The words all but fall from my mouth.

Edward takes a deep breath, his eyes dancing from me to Jasper and back again. "Well, Jasper is kinda my ride, so…"

"Yeah, but…I mean, you could stay here. For tonight - or whatever."

"You don't mind?"

Steeling myself, I nod. "Yeah, you should stay here."

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "With you?"

"No, with Jake. Yes, with me."

Jasper claps his hands together, obviously sick of our awkward little dance. "Well, now that that's settled, I'll be seeing you. Merry Christmas, Iz." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "Edward…" He points at Edward, standing looking at him for a moment. "Be a good house guest."

And with that, he's gone, a drunken, passed out Alice over his shoulder.

Edward settles back into the sofa beside me. "Sleepover, huh?"

"I'll even give you my Strawberry Shortcake pillow."

His fingers dance down the skin of my inner arm until they're wrapped around my wrist. "Strawberry Shortcake is my favorite."

I watch him watch his fingers as they unwrap themselves from my wrist, and slide into the palm of my hand until they're intertwined with mine. His long, graceful hand completely covers mine, his fingers reaching halfway up the back of my hand. With his head resting on the sofa cushion, his face is inches from mine, his golden-brown lashes brush the skin of his cheek as looks down, watching as he trails his free hand up my arm, turning it to trace the shape of a dark blue swallow.

"That's number one."

He looks up, and the first thing I can think is _how the fuck do I get these people out of my house so that I can take this guy upstairs?_


	11. Chapter 11

**EPOV**

* * *

As the last of her guests leave, she's already leading me up the stairs, her pinkie finger wrapped around mine as she takes the steps ahead of me. The wooden stairs creak and protest under our feet, the noise loud in her quiet apartment. It's dark and still, save for the sound of our steps and the light from the Christmas tree in the corner. At the top of the staircase, I tug on her fingers, turning her around until she's facing me, or rather, her chest is.

"Impatient," she chides with a smirk as I reach up to kiss her. I think I've kissed all of her lipstick off. It's just the stain of red left behind; tinting her lips a perfect dark pink.

"Always."

"Come on then."

Her bedroom is at one end of the hall, and she pulls me down the darkened passage, kicking the door open behind her. Just like downstairs, her room is filled with twinkle lights, except these aren't Christmas decorations just tiny white lights. The walls are covered with art, and there's a huge pin board laden with band posters and ticket stubs above her desk. It's not neat, but it's far from a mess; her floor is scattered with clothes and sketch books, and a pair of black boots lies beside her bed.

"Nice bedroom."

"Thanks."

I pick up some sketches off her desk. Vibrant color, precision lines and perfect script with swooping flourishes splash across the thick sketchpad paper. They're amazing. "These are cool. Are they for work?"

She stands, taking the sketches from my hand and putting them back on the desk. "Yeah. You know, for someone about to get very lucky, you're extremely talkative. Do you ever shut up?"

"I'm not normally like this. I think…" She pulls the zipper of my hoodie down slowly, the teeth making a slow, clicking noise. "I think it's you."

Bella watches as I shrug my jacket off, draping it over her desk chair. "I think you're just a weird guy, Ed."

"You like that though."

Chuckling, she pulls me closer by my belt loops. "I do. I don't know why, but I do."

She starts to take her t-shirt off, but I stop her, my hands covering hers. "Can I?"

In answer, she lifts her arms over her head and slowly, I inch the thin white cotton upwards. Her head slips through, and then her arms, until finally she's free of it. Her skin is so pale it's almost translucent in the dim light, making the artwork that adorns her delicate chest look startlingly vivid and bright.

My finger taps the bony spot on her sternum gently. "Is this number two?"

She nods, watching my eyes as I skim my finger over her collarbone, tracing the pink and green roses that decorate her chest, winding all the way from the tips of her shoulders to skim the top of her breasts. It's actually really fucking pretty, and girly, and for some reason, totally suits her. Holding her black-bra covered breasts in my hand, my thumbs skim the ink as it dips into the valley between them. If I thought she was perfect with her clothes on, she's even more so without them. She's not covered in fake tan or bronzer, she doesn't smell like coconut or some other sweet body lotion, and her tits are soft and pliant in my hands, and just the right size.

Pressing her chest into my hands, Bella leans forward to kiss me, her hands slipping into the hair at the nape of my neck.

"You going to look for the others?" she asks, her mouth so close to mine, so warm, so pretty.

"I've been thinking about doing that since I walked in."

Smirking, she tugs me forward by the scruff of my shirt until the back of her legs hit the bed. She's not quite as gentle as she lifts my shirt over my head, and when I reach back to grab the collar behind my head and pull it off, she just stands there, staring at my bare chest.

Short, red-painted nails walk up the middle of my chest as she looks up at me, shaking her head just a little. "So clean and pretty, and kind of perfect."

With a smirk of my own, I push her backwards gently, until she's sitting on the bed. "Move back a bit."

Slipping her little black shoes off, she slides backwards over her comforter until her feet are dangling on either side of my knees.

"Let's have a look then." Leaning on one knee beside her, I bend to press a kiss to the color splashed across her chest.

"One."

I can feel her chest rising and falling under my lips; almost hear the breath whooshing in and out of her lungs. Retracing their earlier path, my fingertips dance down her right arm, her skin pebbling with little goosebumps as they reach her inner elbow.

I place a kiss on the bright blue bird. "Two."

Her hands wind into my hair as I explore the soft skin of her abdomen, smiling as the muscles twitch and flex under her skin. The ink on her side is big, the peacock covering the skin over her ribs, all the way from her bra, over her side, until its tail disappears over the curve of her hip and lower back. The greens and blues of the plumage are interspersed with reds and pinks, even splashes of yellow. I like it, but the thought of someone – most likely that Jake fucker – touching her here, makes me irrationally pissy.

She shudders beneath me as I kiss her side, squeaking as my teeth close around the skin. "That's three."


	12. Chapter 12

**BPOV**

* * *

As Edward slips his fingers under the denim of my jeans, I'm suddenly extremely glad I'm wearing dark underwear. With his pants sitting low on his narrow hips, he hovers at my waist, unbuttoning each button on my jeans slowly, and I swear, it's like there's a fucking leak in my unders. I'm both excited and unhappy at the prospect of him taking my jeans off. On one hand; he's taking my jeans off. But on the other; the friction of the thick denim between my legs has been the only thing that's kept me from rubbing myself all over him. Without it – I'm a little nervous as to what I might do to him.

With a lift of my hips, he tugs my jeans over my ass and hips, and starts to peel them down my legs.

"Oh, well, hello number four."

Leaving my pants at my knees, Edward kisses my right thigh and the tattoo that graces it.

"These are nice also," he says as he plucks at the elastic of my underwear, letting them snap back against my skin.

"Target's finest."

Continuing his exploration, and removal of my jeans, Edward shrugs. "I like it simple."

You don't get any less fancy than black cotton.

"Five," he says, resting my foot in his hand as he kisses the pin-up on my left calf.

Turning my leg this way and that, he smiles. "Dark hair, red lips … and look at that smile … self portrait?"

"It's so that when I'm old and saggy I can remember how hot I was when I was younger."

He laughs, putting my foot down on the bed, his hand sliding up the outside of my leg as he crawls back up. "Good idea."

My leg automatically lifts against his hip as he settles between my legs, the cold metal of his belt buckle a stark contrast to the hot skin of his chest against mine.

"Where could number six be?"

_God, he needs to stop talking._

With my hand cupping his jaw, I lift my lips to his as my hand snakes between us to the button of his jeans. I can feel the thick elastic of his boxers sticking out the top of his pants, and when I tug at it, pushing my hips up against his, he gets the idea.

"I'll find it," he says, sitting back on his knees, his fingers making short work of his button-fly.

"I don't doubt you will."

My feet help to slide his jeans down his legs until he's left in nothing but grey boxers and a wrist watch. It's quite possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen. It's the first time ever in my sexual history, that I've been happy enough to skip the foreplay. I just want him in me and on top of me as soon as humanly possible.

I point to his boxers as he palms himself through them. "Those too."

With his tongue against his lower lip, he thinks about it for a moment before shrugging and rolling them over his hips.

_Holy Christmas balls. _

Biting the inside of my cheek to stop from panting, I smile at him. "You want a hint at number six?"

He nods, and I sit up slowly, removing my legs from around his waist, and turning onto my front.


	13. Chapter 13

**EPOV**

* * *

_Fuuuuuuck._

Black cotton has never looked so good. Sure, it's not Victoria's Secret, but it's still sexy as hell. Her ass is spec-fucking-tacular. She could be wearing those high-cut granny panties, and it would still look hot.

I can't resist the urge to palm her ass, squeezing the muscle and flesh between my hands, running the backs of my fingers across the bottom of her cheeks as they peek out of her underwear.

We're officially at the point of no return. I'm naked, and she's – well – she's mostly naked.

"How come I'm the only naked one here?"

Her mouth lifts in a smile as she looks at me over her shoulder. "Find number six and we'll see what we can do about it."

Did I mention that I want to marry this girl? Sweet, funny, witty, and a tease to boot. Not my type my skinny white ass.

The tail of her peacock extends over her lower back, its feathers ending right under the seam of her underwear. The dip of her spine, the little groove where her back muscles create that perfect little 'v' indentation, has its own goddamn gravitational pull. As my tongue finds it, my lips making their way up her smooth skin, she arches beneath me, a quiet mewling noise sending shockwaves of heat straight down to my dick. I can't help but press into her harder, pushing myself against her ass and holding back a moan of my own as she pushes right back.

Still on the lookout for this last tattoo, I slip my hands under the clasp of her bra, and undo the little clips, letting the black material fall to her sides. It isn't until I reach her shoulders, and sweep the hair up and off her back, that number six reveals itself to me.

Tiny little birds – obviously a theme – dot her left shoulder blade, flying up, up, up, right up onto the back of her neck before they disappear into the hairline behind her ear.

"Ding, ding, ding," she says quietly, smiling at me again, her eyes meeting mine briefly before I kiss her cheek.

"Number six," I breathe, attaching my lips to the tiny ink spots on the back of her neck, and earning me another of those tiny little noises she makes.

She turns her face to mine, kissing me over her shoulder, her hand in my hair. My hand slides between her chest and the bed, and I cup a perfect breast in my hand. It's warm and soft and man I wished I'd tasted them when I had the chance. But the fact is; this isn't going to last long as it is, and as much as I think I really like this girl, I kind of just want to bury myself in her right the fuck now. I feel like such an ass. Normally I'm all about the foreplay – I'm just a nice guy like that. But fuck if I don't just want to watch her come undone around my dick and watch her pretty mouth as she says my name. Which she will – I'll make sure of it.

"Do you have something?" she asks.

"Uhhh.."

_Think, Ed. Think._

"The drawer beside you."

_Do not think about why she has them there; just be fucking glad she does. _

In seconds, the foil wrapper is between my teeth and my cock is in my hand. She's still on her front, her back rising and falling with her breath. "You wanna roll over?" I ask, and my dick practically high-fives me when she says no.

When I touch my fingers to the material between her legs, she jerks, her legs opening a little for me. I slip a finger under the crotch of her underwear, and slip them down her legs. Unable to resist, I kiss the swell of her ass, and the little dip right above it where a flash of green and red sits. Her hands grip the sheets beside her head, and she lifts her ass up, arching her back.

She's so fucking wet as I slide between her legs, pressing against her heat. All it takes is a little shift of my movements, and I'm sliding on home. I stifle a groan in her neck; a shiver running up my spine at the sound her voice and the feel of her around me.

Bella's hand slips down beneath her hips, and I can feel her fingertips pressing against her clit as I bury myself in her, sliding almost all of the way out, before doing the same thing again.

"Oh, Jesus…"

_Edward is fine._

When I push her legs a little wider, I'm rewarded with what I've been waiting for since the moment I saw those lips of hers. That perfect pillow of a bottom lip disappears into her mouth, the metal clinking against her teeth, and she grinds against my dick and her hand, scrunching her eyes shut tightly. The sight of it drives me to the brink of insanity, and I can't help but drive into her a little harder, a little faster.

"Ed—Ed—oh, fuck…" I knew she'd be pretty when she came, and she is; so, so, pretty. Her body clenches and flutters around mine as I press her down into the mattress, letting her ride out her orgasm like the gentleman I am, before getting mine. Panting, she looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink. With a little smile, she lifts herself onto her knees, never losing our connection. With her hips in my hands and her face pressed into her pillows it doesn't take long. In fact, it takes all of about four quick snaps of my hips and I'm coming so hard my vision blurs for a moment, and my knees go all wobbly.

Breathing hard into her lower back, I release her hips and she settles down onto the bed with a contented purr. Disposing of the condom, I slide down beside her, my eyelids suddenly heavy, my whole body wracked with exhaustion. But as she slides a leg over the both of mine, her warm body pressed against my side, I slip an arm under her neck and smile to myself.

She _is_ the perfect height for a shoulder-nook.


	14. Chapter 14

**BPOV**

* * *

I wake a while later, my mouth dry from the beer, and my beaver kind of sore. Sitting up, I take a swig from a water bottle beside my bed, and turn to offer it to Edward. Only he's not there.

Surely I didn't dream all of that.

As I look around my bedroom, I search for signs that I'm not losing my shit. Sure enough, there's a black hoodie draped over my desk chair. Sliding out of bed, I slip it on and step out into the hallway.

The downstairs living area is lit dimly by my Christmas lights, the remnants of a party I can no longer gripe about covering my coffee table and the floor. Following the sound of running water, I move into the kitchen and find Edward.

He looks up just as I enter, and smiles. Half lit by the moonlight streaming in my kitchen window, he's naked as the day he was born, with a glass of water in his hand.

"Make yourself at home," I joke, resting against the sink beside him.

He takes a mouthful of water, offering me the glass. I take a few gulps and hand it back.

"Your heating is awesome. I'm not even a little cold."

I look down, watching him harden right before my eyes. "Nope. Definitely not cold."

Edward tugs me close by the scruff of his hoodie, pressing me against him and kissing me softly. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has a thing for snappy banter. Who am I kidding - his smart mouth and the way he uses it flicks my switches like no other.

"Oh, hey, look." He draws the lace curtains over my sink across, and I smile at the feather soft white snowflakes falling past the window. The street is almost covered, cars dusted white; it must have been snowing for a while already.

It's so pretty. But there's a warm, naked man pressed against me - it could be snowing Gummi Bears right now and I could care less.

"Come on," I urge, pulling him away from the window. "My feet are cold."

Back in my bed moments later, I tuck myself into Edward's shape, my back pressed against his chest, shivering as I tuck my icy feet between his.

He wraps an arm over my waist and cups my left tit, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"Man, I'm so glad I came to your stupid party."

"Me too. Even if you did complain about the beer all night."

His knees tuck up behind mine. "Not all night." I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"No, not all night."

Comfortable and wadm, sleep is already pulling me under again as I watch the snowflakes falling softly outside of my bedroom window, a little pile of clean, white snow captured on the sill.

"Merry Christmas, Bella."

"Merry Christmas, Ed."

Types. What a bunch of bullshit.

* * *

**That's it!**

**Thanks so much for reading, and for all of the lovely reviews. **

**x Wink**


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